


it's nice to have a friend

by orphan_account



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alive!Eddie, M/M, yes this is a fix it fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 20:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20552483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: he lives so they love.





	it's nice to have a friend

"Richie, i think i did it. I think i killed it." Richie blinks, his eyes adjusting. He doesn't have to see to know who the voice belongs to, but this time there's a clown with tentacles baring down on them and as much as he would have liked to, he couldn't take a few seconds to look at Eddie's excited expression, he had to move fast.

Much to Eddie's confusion, he wraps his arms around the man and rolls to the right, narrowly missing the spike that barrels into the concrete besides them, a thundering crack in their ears as the ground shakes beneath them. Eddie jumps up, pulling Richie along with him to join the other losers, who are listening to Mike tell them that they need to make It believe he doesn't scare them. That they're not afraid. But Eddie is, and now he’s reluctant to let go of Richie's wrist. Could he have just almost died? Would he have been stuck down here for the rest of his life? With the bugs, and the dirt, and the souls of the dead-

"Eddie!" He's pulled from the familiar dream by a loud voice. Richie stands over him, a concerned look on his face that's soon replaced with a pained expression as Eddie quickly sits up, their foreheads colliding and knocking Richie back.

"What the hell was that for?" He questions, rearranging his glasses.

"What do you mean, What the fuck were you standing over me like that for?" Eddie complains, rubbing at his forehead as he collapses back into his pillow.

"You were having that dream again and i couldn't wake you, you didn't have to headbutt me for being caring. Thought we were past that part in our relationship, Eds." Richie taunts, a smile on his lips as he sits at the end of the bed, "There was a headbutting part of this relationship? I must have missed that. But, yes, i had the dream again. And no, i don't want to talk about it." The smaller man sits up once again, this time crossing his legs and ignoring the eye roll he receives from his boyfriend.

_Boyfriend._

He couldn’t help but to feel warm on the inside. He was... Happy. And after half of his life being spent running from a murderous clown, from his mother, from his wife, from himself, he deserved that. But there were still some bad days, for the both of them.

Days where Richie could be running his mouth, messing with Eddie in the kitchen as he tried to cook, and suddenly he'd be on his knee's in tears, and Eddie would stop everything to pull Richie close to him, letting him cry into his chest about how for a split second, he had forgotten that Stan was dead, and then it comes flooding back. 

It wasn't much better for Eddie. For him, it was a dream. He would close his eyes and suddenly, he was back down in the darkness, a hole in his chest the size of a tennis ball, and no one could stop the bleeding no matter how hard they tried. And they were going to leave him down there, there was no way they could carry him out, not through all the cracks and holes in the tunnel, no, he was going to have to die there. He would never see the losers again. He'd never see Richie again.

And he wakes up clutching Richie's arm, sweating through his shirt and no matter how many times he'd woken up from this dream, there isn't a time where he doesn't touch that spot on his chest, scared that maybe, somehow, it had gotten him in his sleep. But it never does. And Richie sits up with him the rest of the night, brushing his fingers through his hair, hoping that for both their sake, the next sleep will be a dreamless one. 

  
"Not gonna push my luck. Just, you know, It's gone. It's over. We left Derry and we still remember everything. That's something, right, Eduardo?" Eddie shoves the covers aside, eyeing Richie as he stands up and stretches.

“So Eduardo, that's back on the table?" Richie laughs, "You say that like Eduardo was ever Off the table." Eddie scoffs, but Richie see's it in his eyes. He's scared. And he's been scared since the moment they left Derry. He reaches for his hand, pulling him close. Eddie's taller now of course, despite all the short jokes, but he's not so tall that his head can rest upon Richie's shoulder. So he rests it at his chest, where he can smell Richie's aftershave and hear the beat of his heart. He breathes it all in and suddenly, he feels safe.

“We got another annoying postcard from Beven." Richie says quietly into Eddie's hair, Eddie raising an eyebrow.

"What the fuck is a beven?" Richie coughs out a laugh, "Bev and Ben! It's their names put together. What, no good?"

“Sounds like disease. Are they still doing gross stuff in Australia?" Eddie's asks, a small smile on his face as he feel's Richie's chest move as he laughs, "Anyone else would think you're talking about fucking, but yes, they're still snorkeling in the barrier reef, Eds." Eddie pulls his head back, a stern look on his face that's met with a still laughing Richie.

"How is it not gross? Why would i want to put my mouth on something that other people have put their mouths on?" Richie smiles, and Eddie knows he's trying his best to bite back a joke.

"and i'm begging you not to make that joke right now."

"Joke? What joke? What joke could i possibly make about you putting your mouth on something that other people have put their mouth on, Huh, Eds?" Richie taunts with a big grin, and Eddie can't help but to smile back.

“i fucking hate you, i swear." He laughs, before letting Richie pull him back in for a hug and letting out a sigh.

“Rich, you think Stan's okay up there?" And Eddie can almost feel Richie's heart stop beating for a few seconds. So he takes the lead, and he wraps his arms around the taller man as securely as he can, to let him know he's there. And that it's okay for him to not be okay. After almost a minute of silence, Richie speaks.

"Are you kidding? He's probably forcing innocent people who were minding their own business to go bird watching as we speak." He can feel Richie smiling, probably at the memory of Stan's 14th birthday when they'd all promised to go and look at the nest Stan had found in a tree nearby Mike's farm, belonging to a Red-Breasted Nuthatch.

"_Stan, you're circumcised, right? So you don't got a nuthatch anymore, right?" "Fuck off, Richie, that joke doesn't even make sense." "Jeez, tough crowd." _

_  
_"But, we have to stay positive, right? So we should be focusing on _Other _Stan." Richie states, patting Eddie on the back as he pulls away from the tight hug, Eddie crossing his arms in response.

“You know he hates it when you call him that." Richie raises an eyebrow, mimicking Eddie and crossing his arms over his chest.

"He hates it when i call him that?"

"He makes a face!" Richie not being able to contain it any longer, doubles over in laughter, a hand pressed to his stomach."He's a Pomeranian, Eds! He only has one expression!"

And as if his ears were burning, Stanley trots in with his favorite toy, a blue rabbit, and jumps onto the bed. Eddie strides over, readjusting the pink wool jumper that envelops Stanley's fur and made him look even smaller than he was.

“I really think he hates this thing."

"He looks happy, stop fussing with it."

Richie slaps Eddie's hand away from Stanley, leaning down to pick up the excited dog.

"Who's the best Jewish dog in the entire world? Who's the best Jewish dog in the entire world? It's you. Yes, it is!" He looks over to Eddie, who's shaking his head with a soft smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry, when did we make the decision for him to be Jewish?" Richie presses a kiss to Eddie's forehead, holding Stanley up to the smaller man's face to allow him to do the same.

“He converted. Respect his choices." He tells him, before setting the dog down on the bed once again.

Eddie takes in the scene, it's something so simple that makes him smile, and that makes him realize that he had never been happier than when he was with Richie Tozier. He takes a step towards him, his hand coming up to rest at the back of Richie's neck before he's surprising him with a short but hard kiss on the lips.

When he pulls back, Richie asks, "What was that for?" Eddie just smiles, and reaches forward, brushing the hair out of Richie's eyes and tapping his forehead with his index finger where they'd collided just a short while ago.

"Still hurt?" He asks, but Richie just shrugs his shoulders and smiles. "Nah, Ed's. But next time i ask for head, be a bit more gentle." 


End file.
